


Baby Pictures

by Hemogobbler



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, F/F, Gen, Light Angst, MOM HAS BIG DICK ENERGY, ruminations on war and being a sad lesbian, she need hugs too tho, she wants to adopt catra, talk of death, therapy with angella
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 17:29:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17512868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hemogobbler/pseuds/Hemogobbler
Summary: Queen Angella, as well as several dozen guards, corner Catra. Trapped in Angella's chambers, all the Queen asks for in exchange for freedom is a listening ear.





	Baby Pictures

Catra knew it was going too well. Easy access to the unguarded personal chambers of Queen Angella, and in broad daylight, no less? For the chance to glimpse the rebellion’s most coveted secrets, or even just to get the layout of the room for future reference, the attempt was worth it. But Catra had either underestimated the rebellion or overestimated her own abilities when she had decided to turn routine reconnaissance into an infiltration.

 

 _Nah, I can get out of this_. Guards filtered through the narrow doorway into the room, the sound of metal boots moving in unison.

 

They surrounded her and her original entrance, a large window, yet still more came through and set up positions until the entire room was wall-to-wall with shields and swords.

 

_I can get out of this. High ceiling… and then...?_

 

Two final guards of elite and imposing stature came through. They had heavy gold armour unlike any Catra had seen before. They wielded lances radiant with magical power, which stopped just short of Catra’s neck, and held them there as Queen Angella appeared between them. Catra, surprised to see the Horde’s most wanted, lost her defensive stance as the odds just about tipped out of her favor.

 

Angella waved away the lances that were obstructing her view of the feline intruder. She regarded Catra with a solemnity that was tinged with disgust; unable to restrain a scowl that was pulling at her face. Catra returned a smug look, completely self-satisfied in being granted an audience with the queen.

 

“So… uh… bathroom was the third left or fourth?” Catra covered her Force Captain badge with an exaggerated display of embarrassment. "Swear the dude told me it was here."

 

“You are more insufferable than I was told to expect, Catra,” Angella raised her arm to point outside the window, towards the greenery of Bright Moon. Catra didn’t take her eyes off Angella, pleased to hear she knew her name.

 

“The treeline? How bold. The Horde doubts us more every day. I've grown accustomed to espionage, but it had once been thoughtless drones, high up in the sky. It made good practice for the archers. Are Force Captains that expendable nowadays?”

 

“Maybe. But a drone can’t watch you sleep from a branch away, or open the door to your room at night,” Catra flexed her fingers, black claws shining. “And who knows what else?”

 

Angella’s face lost some stoicism and seemed to, instead, become entertained. Her head tilted to the side slightly, and her purple eyes sparkled with curiosity.

 

“You certainly possess the Horde charm. Does Hordak teach a class on villainous dialogue? I could recommend some texts for study. Ancient literature, of course, but _very_ somber.”

 

Catra furrowed her brow and crossed her arms. 

 

“Look, I’m sure whatever you just said was real funny if you’re like three-hundred years old, but can we skip to the part where you capture me already?” 

 

“Is that what you want?” Angella asked, with a touch of kindness in her voice. “It would be that easy, you know, if any of us could trust you. I know someone who so badly wants to trust you again.”

 

“Yeah?” Catra’s fangs flashed, her voice losing some of its composure. “Right back at her.”

 

“It should be her having this conversation,” Angella took in a deep breath and furrowed her brow. “She is elsewhere. You have me instead. I know Adora. Not as well as you, but enough to know that she is not the sort of person to abandon her friends.”

 

Catra tried to speak, but was cut off by Angella’s voice, whose words echoed through the room as if she was delivering a speech to all the citizens of Bright Moon. Every syllable found its way to Catra’s ears.

 

“She would not leave you willingly. The decisions we make are so often not our own. For She-Ra, this is especially true. The power that she holds pulls her relentlessly towards an age-old destiny I cannot begin to fully understand. If you cannot see this, your bond with who she was must have been strong. Dependent, even. However, I must also question this friendship if you are blind to the fact that she is a victim too?”

 

Catra's rage nearly drove her mad. Another princess pretending to understand anything of the relationship she once had. Every time she had managed to push the girl out of her mind, it doubled back on her through different voices, dreams, stories of She-Ra. Her face would appear in every glint of a sword; there were stray blonde hairs on the other side of Catra's pillow; Lonnie would not stop talking about taking their revenge; Shadow Weaver _still_ pined for Adora's return from a cell. She would never be rid of this shame.

 

“She's what a victim looks like to you? That’s what a victim is capable of?” Catra was agitated by the fact that Angella could be taking the time to talk like this. One of them should have been dead by now. As Catra’s impatience grew, so did her anger. “You have _no idea_ what it’s like being powerless. Here, I’ll show you.”

 

Catra’s claws extended in a flash and her body dropped low, beneath the lances. There was the sound of a hundred swords growing sharper as they scraped against the shields, accelerating towards the lone operative. They were faster than she expected. If she jumped, the lances would catch her on the way down. Anything else would be a sword in her side. So, she bluffed.

 

Catra closed her eyes, crossed her arms in front of her head, and imagined the look on Adora’s face. She opened them a moment later, still alive, her heart pounding in her chest.

 

Angella’s hand was raised flat, issuing the order to halt. It changed into a thumb which she threw over her shoulder. The soldiers hesitantly shuffled out of the room, which grew much larger in their absence. The two elite guards remained either side of Angella. She looked at Catra with an expression of pity. Catra was stunned. Luck was on her side, but she was unable to boast: she couldn’t find her voice.

 

“You would court death in order to prove a point?” Angella reached out a gentle hand to Catra’s shoulder, which she backed away from swiftly. Angella’s eyes were concerned and her expression was pained, as if tears might fall at any time. Catra took in short breaths; unused to mercy of any caliber, let alone that which put the queen at such risk.

 

“I cannot fathom what they must have taught you to disregard the value of your own life.”

 

Angella was pacing around her room comfortably, as if there wasn’t a Horde spy who was studying her every movement. Even the two guards seemed relaxed, now, and Catra felt like they were mocking her for not seeing the attack through. The war would end with one pounce at Angella, so why couldn’t she do it?

 

 _Coward_ , Catra thought, in a voice that was not her own.

 

“What I wouldn’t give to have an audience of young soldiers just like you,” Angella was smiling. She had sat on her bed and was flicking through an old book. “I was always a better mother than queen. I’d like to be a teacher, I think, if circumstances ever permit.”

 

Catra shook herself, her senses coming back to her. It felt surreal just being alive, without a direction in which to throw herself. Angella was still speaking, and her perfect mellow words roused the fury in Catra once more.

 

“STOP TALKING!” She shouted, and the guards began to circle her, their weapons down. “No wonder you’re losing the war, if this is your strategy. I can only IMAGINE the torture you’d put Hordak through. What’re you gonna do to him, huh? Turn him into a princess after he opens up to you about _his_ horrible childhood?”

 

“Oh, no,” Angella said, quietly. “Believe me when I say I would not hesitate to end Hordak’s life should it become necessary. I suppose that makes us the same. I… We have lost enough to him and his war.” Angella let the silence end the subject. Catra believed the ability to kill was either an impulse, or took extreme determination. Neither affected her currently.

 

“I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but would you indulge me? Listen a while longer?”

 

“Why should I?” Catra was tired, listening to Angella gave rise to complicated thoughts that usually came in the dead of night, and vanished with the return of the sun. A thousand years of wisdom assaulting her brain robbed her of the desire to fight, even if her odds were substantially better now.

 

“Because if not, I will blind you,” Trails of multicoloured light wrapped around Angella’s hand. It was shielding a tiny sun, the rays of which escaped through the cracks in her fingers and hurt to look at. One guard moved to block the window, while the other covered the door.

 

“Temporarily, of course. He will restrain you,” She pointed towards the bulky guard by the window, behind Catra. She then pointed to the one by the door, “And she will tie you up, or knock you out, her choice.” Door guard nodded gratefully. Catra sneered as Angella made her final point.

 

“But if you listen, you will be free to go back to the Fright Zone. Unless, of course, you _want_ to be captured,” Angella raised a pristine eyebrow. “Your choice.”

 

Angella’s cocky approach both infuriated and instilled respect in Catra for the queen. She utterly rejected the notion that Angella was in control, confident that, now that she knew to avoid her magic, she would only need to take out one guard in order to escape.

 

However, something inside her wanted to listen. Maybe it was because rest was increasingly harder to come by. There would be plenty of fighting down the line, but rarely an opportunity to gain intel straight from the source. Hardly a moment of peace, and always another miserable, life-changing decision to make. Angella did not scare her, and that was enough. If anything, the older woman made her feel safe. It took something special to want to connect with an enemy, and Catra wanted to experience it for herself. Maybe she would learn something.

 

The other option tapped at her mind: a golden opportunity to do away with Hordak just as he would with her once she had outlived her usefulness. All it would cost was the power she had attained for herself. No more personal army for General Catra; no devastating coup d’etats that would topple the rule of her abusers - back to square one. She would be known as the captured Horde soldier, and all of her achievements from then on would be scraps from She-Ra’s table.

 

She knew it was stubborn, short-sighted, and vain, even, but how could she ever begin to grow if half of her belonged to someone else? Someone who was not the same person anymore. Someone who had been made stronger by how vulnerable Catra used to be, and who held that power over her head as the star-struck Etherians gawked on.

 

After all was said and done, she wanted someone to remember her name.

 

“I’ll listen.”

 

Angella patted the bed beside her happily. Catra rolled her eyes and huffed.

 

“I won’t tell Hordak, promise,” Angella said, beaming, and the feline reluctantly made her way close to the queen. She sat down right next to her, and the guards watched them both anxiously. Angella opened the book she was holding between the two of them.

 

“Would you like to see Glimmer’s baby pictures?”

 

“Not really.”

 

“Well, I’m going to show you anyway. Perhaps seeing how adorable she is will draw out an apology. You know, for kidnapping and torturing her,” Angella smiled sarcastically at her, but her teeth were clenched hard. Catra looked away and tugged at her uniform collar.

 

“For the record, I didn’t torture her. That w-”

 

“I don’t care. Look.”

 

Catra followed Angella’s loving gaze to the pages, where numerous pictures of herself, Glimmer, and a dignified-looking, dark-haired man were arranged. He was shorter than Angella by an inch or so and was the only person Catra had ever seen actually pull off a beard. She wanted to touch it. Angella did too, judging from the way she tenderly stroked the pictures.

 

“Aren’t they amazing? Our most precious moments preserved forever. Our mages could never replicate this, you know. To me, this is First Ones technology at its best. Though I’m sure Hordak would disagree.”

 

Baby Glimmer seemed to get into more trouble than Princess Glimmer. There were an alarming number of pictures that captured her teleporting in mid-air, spectators watching in alarm as the dark haired man threw himself towards the child, arms outstretched. Another depicted a celebration of some sort, a banner framed the event in bold pink letters: 'Happy Birthday Glimmer!' The words didn't mean anything to Catra, but the expression on Angella spoke volumes. She was caught in a petrified half-laugh, tugging at a pair of tiny legs whose owner was all but swallowed up by a monumental cake. Catra cut short a smile by gritting her teeth, but couldn’t stop herself from speaking.

 

“Kid’s a lot of trouble, looks like.”

 

Angella laughed genuinely, “Yes! She is! I am thankful for your honesty. You have no idea how refreshing it is to have Glimmer’s rowdiness acknowledged by someone other than myself. Once you get past the first ten years of teleportation, it does get a little easier.”

 

Catra didn’t know what to do with her hands. They were on her legs, and then the luxuriously soft bed quilt, and then they were cracking her fingers and knuckles together. A loud ‘pop’ brought Angella out of her nostalgia.

 

“A nasty habit.”

 

“So is living in the past,” Catra said with no trace of mirth, her eyes downcast.

 

Angella nodded, and her body shifted to face Catra.

 

“That doesn’t mean we can cut it off. It is who we are. It will always be.”

 

Catra’s hands went limp and hung down between her legs as she stared at the floor.

 

“...Yeah. Can we wrap this up?”

 

“Pick your favourite,” Angella said quickly, opening the book wide for Catra to peruse. “Nearly there,” She added as Catra let out a deep sigh.

 

It didn’t take long to find one. Catra would never admit that they were all charming, but there was one of Glimmer as a toddler that made her feel warm and lonely. She was laughing, happily perched atop the bearded man’s shoulders, and was on the receiving end of a big smooch on the cheek from Angella. The gaps between Glimmer’s baby teeth reminded her of Adora as a child. She placed a finger on it gently.

 

Angella blinked away a tear and looked delighted.

 

“Thank you.” She reached out a hand to touch the girl’s cheek, but decided against it. Royalty came back into Angella’s voice. “What motivates you, Catra?”

 

Catra opened her mouth and closed it, unable to give an answer.

 

“Power, shall we say?”

 

Catra shrugged, but felt herself drawn to the word. Shadow Weaver had prized conquering one’s enemies above all else, and Catra could feel that same ideology infect her. It _was_ satisfying to think of how the sorceress fell to the ground beneath her.

 

“Useful to a point, but merely a resource. I have power, they tell me. But what drives me is my child. My children, if you count the rebellion. I’m certainly counting Bow. To have them able to grow in a world that welcomes them - that is something I would die for.”

 

“Catra, I do not believe a lust for power has brought you this far. You were ready to throw your life away for nothing barely minutes ago. You care not for yourself, and I cannot convince you to. But I know you care for others. You have a heart, like it or not, and it suffers the longer you ignore it. It hardens and you convince yourself you do not need it. This is what the Horde does to people, especially those most vulnerable.”

 

Catra scowled at the word, stood up, and began to stretch. The guards regarded her carefully.

 

“Love is the only thing on this world worth fighting and dying for. In Hordak’s future there is no such thing. I try to believe my husband’s sacrifice did… something to further our resistance. I have to.”

 

Angella rested her head on her hands, while Catra examined the window, wide-open. The cool breeze was intoxicating and promised her aimless freedom, though she knew that was a lie.

 

“The truth is I miscalculated. _I_ threw his life away. It accomplished nothing. It made Glimmer resentful, and I am nothing of the queen I used to be when he was by my side.”

 

Angella raised her head, and let the tears fall. She was angry, and would force them out of her vision by sheer force of will so she could look into Catra’s eyes. Angella's eyes pleaded with her, and Catra grew uncomfortable seeing someone so powerful laid bare. Weakness, Catra thought, but it didn't come across as that at all. There was determination; a righteousness that only seemed more divine the more Angella begged her to listen with quivering eyes, her unhappy wisdom granting her the strength to pierce Catra's soul.

 

“This war will take _everything_ from you if you let it. And it will still take from you if you resist. I believe it already has for the both of us."

 

Catra remembered sparring with Adora. After an accidental swipe left her more bloody than injured, Catra always kept her nails in around her. Nobody else had that luxury. Adora found Catra crying on the roof of the dorms, terrified her best friend would hate her guts. Adora just thanked her for the 'rad scar' and sat down with her.

 

"Any day could be your last, and you will have nothing to show for it. If you are to give your life, do it for yourself. Do it for someone else. For a future together. If you lose yourself in bitter memories you will not see that the sword you fall on is your own.”

 

Catra took a step towards the window and glanced back at Angella. She looked serene; having finished drying her eyes and going back to treating the Force Captain as exactly that. She motioned the guard to step aside. It gave them all a clear view of the endless horizon, with a few rays of sunlight pinpointing the way back to the Fright Zone.

 

Catra perched on the ledge, marveling at how high up the queen’s room was.

 

“Sorry I kidnapped your daughter,” Catra turned to say, with one leg dangling off the side. “Next time I’ll go for you.”

 

The queen chuckled, leaning back on her arms in a unusually casual display.

 

“I appreciate that. Stay safe, Catra.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you SO much for reading! If you like this fic and want more of this sort of dynamic, you can check out its semi-sister piece, where Adora bonds with Razz over being a sad lesbian, here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17591153


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